digging (into) vintage: Guerlain Chant d’Aromes, 1962

I never know what to make of Chant d’Aromes. It seems more of a powdery, aldehydic, lactonic floral than a true chypre. Yet the drydown’s hint of a chypre base combined with the remnant of the peachy floral, is the only part of much interest. And this final bit is so faint I have to strain to make it out.

The powdery, indistinct opening used to give me a bit of hope that maybe the diaphanous appearance might coalesce into something haunting as Vol de Nuit does with its can’t-put-my-finger-on-it top notes. Unfortunately, the undefined though non-offensive opening grows increasingly vague. Chant d’Aromes seems clean in that it’s blandly unadulterated, not heightened or expansive like the best floral aldehydes. Despite aldehydic perfumes often being considered old-ladyish, Chant d’Aromes suggests the attempt to seem girlish or disingenuously naïve. Posing as the good girl.

Whether a pose or a true reflection, Chant d’Aromes has a pretty smile, but not a lot of chat. It is equally undemanding and unrewarding.